


Con Sentimento

by heybabydoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybabydoll/pseuds/heybabydoll
Summary: Hermione dreams of becoming the chief-of-medicine at St Mungo's Medical School, so she's decided to fluff her medical school application by double-majoring in both biochemistry and classical piano performance. This is much to the distaste of the Director of Piano Studies at Slytherin School of the Arts, Dr Thomas M Riddle, who values jazz piano performance over all things.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This plot-bunny has been attacking my head for a while. This is inspired by my own life as an over-achieving, perfectionist musician and my interest in health sciences. It's also inspired by my own love life. I hope you enjoy this as much as I had fun writing this chapter. I'll try to update as often as I can, but it's a bit difficult when you're working full-time and planning a wedding.

With careful precision, Hermione hung up her last picture on her living room wall. She had previously marked the area with a ruler, like she had with all of her other wall decorations. Like everything she did with her life, she had meticulously planned which picture should go where with precise measurements.

Everything had to be done with care, especially since this was her favorite picture of her boyfriend, Ron, her best friend, Harry, and herself.

It was taken on the day they graduated from secondary school. She had her arms around both of them with a big grin on her face. Of course, she was elated that she had graduated summa cum laude with the coveted valedictorian spot. Her curls were styled perfectly underneath her graduation cap and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Harry could never wear any hat properly because his hair was always all over the place. Even with pins, the graduation cap would not properly settle. To her right, Ron wasn’t even looking at the camera. He was too busy sparkling at her. After this picture was taken, she would take the plunge and give him a kiss.

It was their first kiss. They had been dancing around each other for the entirety of upper sixth, probably even before that. He told her that she was perfect, that she was the perfect girl for him.

Perfectionists love hearing that they’re perfect. Hermione was no exception. In fact, Hermione was the rule. She was the ultimate perfectionist. Any task that her parents, her teachers, and her friends had asked of her, she completed it with flying colors.

When she was young, her parents urged her to get high scores. Both of her parents were successful dentists, so they were able to provide Hermione with a very comfortable upbringing with lots of extra-curricular activities. By the time she was in her last year of secondary, not only did she have the highest grade-point-average, but she was vice president of the honors society with an excellent volunteer record of mentoring and tutoring children with special needs, president of a health-occupation students society that won first place in a tournament, an active member of the dance team, a competitive classical pianist, and a cantor in her church choir. She knew her college application was well-cushioned and padded to ensure admittance in any school she wanted.

This was why she received a full ride to the university of her dreams, The University of Hogwarts.

It had been her dream school, to graduate where her parents had attended for their undergraduate degrees. Even as a baby, she was dragged to every sports game and dressed in blue and bronze. Both of her parents had graduated from the Ravenclaw School of Science and Engineering. Her mother was Lily Potter’s college roommate and best friend, which explained the reason why Harry and Hermione grew up knowing that they were both a shoe-in at the university. Harry’s parents were both professors at the university as well.

She too was able to score admittance into both the Ravenclaw School of Science and Engineering and the Slytherin School of the Arts. She would be double-majoring in music performance, with a focus on classical piano, on the pre-medicine track. She’d been playing classical piano competitively for so long, she knew that majoring in piano performance would be a piece of cake. She knew it would add some pizazz to her application to St Mungo’s Medical Center at the University of Hogwarts, because she would stand out in a sea of students who would major in the sciences.

Hermione was the type of girl who had her life planned for the next five years. She planned _everything_. Even her apartment was meticulously chosen for its location and style. The apartment was both equidistant from home and the university. Granted, it was a little farther than the dorms and student housing, but she didn’t care much for a social life. She had all that mattered.

It was the one apartment that let her bring her baby grand piano and Crookshanks. It was difficult to find pet and noise-friendly apartments. The Little Hangleton Apartments were musician-friendly in that they were spacious studio apartments that were situated near the local jazz haunts in town. This meant she could be as loud as she wanted without being a total bother. It was adjacent to the Chamber of Secrets, a speakeasy where the world-famous jazz staff and alum of the Slytherin School frequented. The Pit was a coffeeshop where most of the students could score some gigs. There were several art and dance studios across the street.

She was in a very creative part of town, where she knew the sounds that she would hear were more pleasant to the ear. She could hear smooth jazz coming from the venues outside, which helped to soothe her nerves. It was better than listening to drunk college students that hung out at the bars by student housing, where Harry lived. Since he was at the Gryffindor School of Business and Media, he knew it would be important for networking and to be near others.

Hermione had no interest in networking. She just wanted to get good grades, to get good references from her future professors, and to have happy and healthy relationships with her friends and family. She didn’t have the desire to make new friends because she was already happy with the status of her social life. She didn’t need new friends in secondary, so she knew she definitely didn’t need new friends in college. Networking would only serve as a distraction from her ultimate goal.

Nothing would stop her from becoming a doctor.

She’d already researched all her future professors, their rubrics and office hours. Over the summer, she’d outlined the first few chapters for all of her courses, so she could properly participate in class discussion. Hermione knew that she was very well-prepared for classes that would start the following week. She already prepared her bag and her outfit for tomorrow, so she wouldn’t have a lot of stress in the morning.

Hermione was ready to take on college.

Just as she relaxed on her small lounge chair with Crooks in her lap, her cellular phone began to ring. When she picked up her phone, she saw her boyfriend’s goofy grin flash on the screen.

Ronald couldn’t be more opposite than her, but that was why she liked him so much. Granted, she’d always had a crush on him when they were growing up.

Since their mothers were really close, Hermione and Harry pretty much grew up like they were cousins, but they had attended different primary schools. Hermione had been introduced to Ron as Harry’s new friend from primary. At first, Hermione had been jealous because she thought Ron was stealing her spot as Harry’s best friend. Hermione ended up straddling him and pounding his face with her fist. This was when Harry broke them apart. He told Hermione that she would always be his best friend who was a girl, and that Ron was his best friend who was a boy.

Their friendship started off very rough, but by the end of the year, Hermione and Ron became best friends. When they started dating, Ron had confessed that he’d had a crush on her ever since she attacked him in the jungle gym. She confessed that the reason that she attacked him was because she didn’t understand that she too, already had a crush on him. It was a love story that played out like those cheesy teen romance films.

Only Hermione wasn’t sure how long they would last.

Ron was not as ambitious as Hermione. Rather than attend university, Ron was eager to gain real-life experience by working at his brothers’ novelty and gag gift store. Hermione had encouraged him to apply for enrollment at the Gryffindor School of Business and Media, just so he could understand the basics of business and entrepreneurship. Ron argued that school wasn’t for him.

Hermione had plans on becoming the chief of medicine for St. Mungo’s. Ron had absolutely no goals. While Ron was incredibly sweet, and thoughtful when he remembered to be thoughtful, his lack of drive annoyed her. He was also a very jealous and insecure person. There were times that he wouldn’t attend one of her piano recitals, or a celebration for winning another academic competition, because she achieved too much. Still, she cheered for him in every chess club competition and supported him in all his football games.

She knew Ron was capable of achieving anything if he quit letting his insecurities get in the way. She could hardly count the many times she had to keep quiet about her achievements in order to make him feel better.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her cellular phone and answered the call.

“Hi. How was working the store today?” she asked him. She really didn’t want to hear about his day, but she thought she’d be polite. He couldn’t even ask his brothers for time off to help her move in to her new place.

She heard him clear his throat before he answered. “Oh you know, same old, same old, but nothing I can’t handle. Actually, since there weren’t a lot of customers, George had me sent home early, so I was able to join in on a friendly footie game with Harry and his new roommate, Neville. Isn’t that fun?”

Hermione could feel her blood boil as her boyfriend spoke. “Ron, you _knew_ I was unpacking my apartment today. You told me you had to work, so I let it slide. It didn’t occur to you to… I don’t know, help your girlfriend move into her apartment?” she asked him with ire in her voice.

She heard him sigh on the other line. “‘Mione, you told me that your mum hired movers. I thought you already got that covered. I thought you didn’t need me. I firmly support your identity as a strong and independent woman,” he argued.

Of course, he could turn his procrastination and forgetfulness in a positive light. This was how he could get away with anything. It worked with their secondary school teachers, as it was the only way Ron could have graduated upper sixth with his barely-passing GCSEs. Sometimes it worked on her, but her patience was wearing thin.

“Ron, I had hired help to help me unload the moving truck. I really would have appreciated you helping me unpack and sort my belongings,” she informed him. “I especially wanted you here so you could make this place comfortable for you as well, since you’ll probably be spending the night here often...”

With that statement, she could practically hear Ron’s spirits lift through the phone. He had been begging for her to take their relationship to the next level, but she had refused. They have had several opportunities that had been interrupted by either his family or hers. He had many siblings so it was difficult to get a moment of privacy at his place. Her parents were quite conservative when it came to intimacy, and did not approve of Hermione spending a moment unsupervised when inside their home. On a date at the theatre, Ron had attempted to finger her, but for the life of him, could not figure out where her clitoris was located.

Yes, it was a rocky start. She knew that getting into this relationship, she would have to learn to love Ron’s flaws. They were flaws that she could appreciate as a friend, even as a best friend. She wasn’t quite sure she appreciated them as a girlfriend. A part of her hoped that she could salvage their relationship, because she didn’t want to ruin what they had. She didn’t want their relationship to fail because she couldn’t love Ron.

“Oh, ‘Mione. I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you, please,” he insisted with more enthusiasm, “I can come over tonight.”

“Ron, I can’t, although I do appreciate the thought. I have my piano audition tomorrow. I need to get some sleep, especially if I am to receive private piano lessons with Dr Snape,” she reminded him. “You know he’s…”

She was interrupted by Ron’s annoyed voice, “He’s one of the most prominent classical pianists to ever perform Stravinsky’s _Petrushka_ arranged for piano in Diagon Alley. You yap about him all the time.”

“He’s one of the greatest classical pianists of all time. I need to impress him enough so that I can get in his piano studio,” she told him. “If only you stayed awake at his last concert, you would have appreciated his art.”

“‘Mione, you’re _already_ a great pianist. You’ve won so many competitions already. You’d think that you had enough medals on your wall by now…” he trailed off when Hermione heard his mother yelling in the background. “Gotta go, ‘Mione. Break a leg in your audition tomorrow. We can celebrate properly when you get in Dr Snape’s piano studio. I love you.”

Before Hermione could say ‘I love you’ back, the call dropped. She didn’t know if this was a curse or a blessing. It’d been so easy for him to drop the infamous ‘L’ word, but she struggled with it. They had gotten into a fight when she couldn’t say it yet. Her people-pleasing tendencies reminded her that she would be able to say it the next time.

In fact, every single time she said the words, she felt like she was lying. Then again, she really didn’t want the relationship to be a failure. Hermione Granger just didn’t do failure.

The brunette shook off the sighs as she got ready for bed. She performed her nightly skin cleansing routine, brushed out her curls properly, and changed into her favorite emerald silk shorts set. She made sure that her alarm was set for the following morning, so that she could complete her morning routine and have ample time to warm up for her audition at 12:30.

Hermione climbed into her queen-size bed and settled into her silk pillowcase. Then, she started using her tried-and-true deep-breathing methods to relax her. She inhaled all the positive energy, and would exhale all the stress and jitters she was experiencing before the audition. While doing this, Crookshanks jumped on the bed next to her to settle in his usual, little-spoon position. She kissed his furry head as she snuggled into her furry companion.

These were the steps of her usual routine to ensure a good night’s sleep. She would need all the positive energy to impress Dr Snape tomorrow, especially if she was going to play Brahms.

Of course, Hermione did the research before she chose a piece. It was why she was so intent on being in Dr Snape’s studio. He wrote his dissertation on an analysis of Brahms’s use of counterpoint. He is also known as one of the world’s leading Brahms performers.

She absolutely loved Brahms’s “Two Rhapsodies, Opus 79: Rhapsodie in G Minor.” It had been the one piece she played to win first place last year. She knew it by heart. She’d rehearsed it so many times that she could see the music notes behind her eyelids.

Just as she was nearly settled off into a doze, a loud crash from next-door reverberated into her apartment. Her furry friend scurried underneath her bed to hide from the unknown danger. Hermione felt a little sad that the loud sound had chased off her pet. Crooks always knew how to help her with her anxiety, but only while he wasn’t dealing with his own.

With another heavy sigh, Hermione turned to her side and attempted to fall asleep again.

After a few seconds of silence, muffled footfalls and nasal cackles from next door echoed into her apartment. She tried to focus on sleep, but the noises began to crescendo. In response, she yanked open her drawer to find her earplugs, and placed them in her ears. She hoped that this would save her from her noisy neighbor.

As if her next-door neighbor knew how to push her buttons, the neighbor slammed something against their sharing wall, and started moaning. Hermione inwardly cringed as she heard the familiar sounds of sexual intercourse against the wall. Loud wails of “Harder, Tom!” echoed through the walls.

The woman was loud enough that Hermione could hear every word she moaned clearly, _through her earplugs_.

With a growl, Hermione shoved her head underneath her pillow in an attempt to block out the noise. How could her next-door neighbor be so inconsiderate? They had the corner apartment. They could’ve chosen any other wall to have sex against. But no, this neighbor had to choose the wall that she placed her favorite pictures.

The wall that held her beloved pictures began to shake. Then, she heard the cacophonous duet of nasal, feminine moans accompanied by masculine grunts echo through the wall. More slamming occurred, which vibrated the wall enough so several of her precisely-placed frames crashed against the wooden floor.

When she noticed that it was her favorite picture, the perfectionist in Hermione exploded in full force. If no one else was going to put a stop to this racket, then she might as well do it.

With a huff, Hermione jumped out of bed and threw her earplugs on the side table. She hastily put on her fuzzy cat slippers and stormed into the hallway. She was well intent on banging on her neighbor’s door and giving them a piece of her mind. It was just past midnight on an early Monday morning. She was sure other tenants would appreciate the sleep before a busy work week.

Once she whipped her door open, she was spooked to find a good-looking, young man taking a hit from his vape pen. It appeared as if this man was the occupant across the hall from her, since he was standing adjacent to the door 219. He had reddish-brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a friendly, clean-shaven face. He wore a Parliament band tee and some faded black jeans. She could tell by the way his clothes hung to his body that he was a bit on the leaner side.

She sensed him looking her up and down through his vintage-style aviator glasses. She blushed as she realized she was wearing something very revealing. Her silk pajama set didn’t leave much to the imagination. Hermione felt her cheeks redden even more when she realized that he knew she was looking him up and down as well.

“Oh, you must be the new tenant in 218. As you can hear, not many people stay in 218,” he informed her as he held out his vape pen to her. “You look like you could use some.”

Hermione shook her head. “No thanks. I audition for a music studio tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to not have any drugs inhibiting my performance,” she informed him. She did her best to avoid looking at him, for she knew she was checking him out. She didn’t want to add another failure towards her relationship with Ron.

“I didn’t smoke as much until I moved in here, and I’m across the hall in 219. It helps me tune them out. He brings home a different girl almost every night,” the handsome stranger told her.

Hermione walked to the door to apartment 220 and knocked. She waited a few seconds, but the loud noises of lovemaking still echoed through the hallway.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the handsome stranger advised. “They either can’t hear you, or they’re ignoring you.”

“Can’t we just report him to the landlord?” she asked him.

“Technically, he _is_ the landlord,” he answered before he took another inhalation from his pen. As he exhaled, he let out a puff that smelled strongly of marijuana. She couldn’t hold back a cringe as she was unused to the smell.

Before she could say something else, she was interrupted by an audible clap of a hand on someone’s skin, followed by a shriek that echoed through the hallways.

“That can’t be attractive,” Hermione commented as she made a face. “She sounds like a tone-deaf banshee.”

The stranger chuckled at her reaction. His laugh had a nice deep vibration that Hermione enjoyed hearing. It also helped that he had a nice, friendly smile. “Better get used to it. She teaches aural skills and is the director of vocal performance,” he informed her.

The brunette cringed in disgust. “You did not need to tell me that Dr Lestrange is shagging in the room. There is a strict professional boundary I’d like to keep as a student. I _really_ don’t want to know the private lives of my professors,” Hermione told him as she tried to shake her head free from the mental image.

“I don’t know what school you went to, but you’ll find the boundaries get blurred in music school,” the stranger continued. “It was like that when I attended Malfoy Academy of Performing and Visual Arts. Everyone was either family or family-friends to a professor.”

“As much as I wanted to attend a performing arts academy, I wanted a broader type of secondary education,” Hermione told him. “While I am pursuing a bachelors degree in piano performance at Slytherin, I will also be pursuing a biochemistry, pre-medicine degree at Ravenclaw in hopes of getting into St Mungo’s.”

His eyes widened at the information she told him. “Those are two extremely different fields. Usually, people who are pre-med just get a minor in music, or just pursue a liberal arts in music degree. You must be quite the talented one then,” he assumed. “Why pre-medicine? Slytherin is a performing arts college for people who want to focus on performance. I imagine the professors would not be too excited to know that music is not your primary focus, or vice versa with the profs in Ravenclaw,” the handsome stranger explained.

“In some societies, they’re not different at all. In some ancient civilizations, people believed that music was a way to communicate with the gods to ask for good health. They even thought that certain scales or harmonies could invoke a release of the demons in the blood stream,” she informed him. “Sometimes, music can be used to decrease the anxiety of a patient when drugs are no longer doing the trick.”

In response to her trivia, he laughed. “Musicians love to hear that. Anything that can give them an excuse to perform,” he stated. “You will fit right in at Slytherin, though I can’t say much for Ravenclaw. Not many creatives in there.”

“Hey, both of my parents are Ravenclaw alums. They are both thriving dentists _and_ leading researchers in curing oral cancer at the university. That requires creativity. Their results would also be beneficial to you as a smoker and for other musicians who partake,” she responded haughtily as she motioned towards his vape.

He laughed again. Hermione found that even though she didn’t know this man, she really enjoyed talking to him. It felt easy, much easier than talking to Ron. It also helped that he had a nice, friendly smile. Even though he smoked, she was glad that she had such a friendly neighbor, unlike the bloke in 220 of course.

She found herself staring into his friendly eyes, and he was sparkling right back at her. They stood there in a pleasant silence, until she remembered that this was poor behavior for a girl who was already spoken for.

Hermione decided that the polite thing to do to change the vibe was to introduce herself, end the conversation, and attempt to sleep.

“I’m so sorry. It was entirely rude of me to not introduce myself to a neighbor. I’m Hermione Granger, by the way,” she apologized as she held her hand out.

The neighbor slowly took her small hand in his. She couldn’t help but realize how much bigger his hand was around hers. It was a pleasant feeling to hold his hand.

“I’m Theo Nott,” he introduced himself. “I’m a graduate student at Slytherin pursuing a bass pedagogy degree. I’m also a teaching assistant in music theory with Dr Slughorn. You’ll probably see me around on campus.”

Hermione slowly let go of his hand so she could cover her yawn. Again, she apologized, “I’m sorry. You’re not boring me. I have spent the whole day unpacking and moving in, and my boyfriend didn’t even bother to help. I also have that audition to prepare for tomorrow.”

At the mention of her saying that she had a boyfriend, she noticed Theo slightly distance himself from her. To make the situation even more uncomfortable, the bloke in 220 was still at it. The words, ‘Right there, Tom, fuck! Fuck me!’ was heard clearly in the hall.

“Why do _you_ stay here?” she asked Theo after a particularly reverberant ‘yes, fuck me harder’ echoed in the hall.

“I’m in his jazz trio so rent is free. We just performed at the Chamber of Secrets a half-hour ago. Since he’s pretty much the star of the show, it doesn’t take long for a groupie or some slag to whisk him away,” he explained. “Are you sure you don’t want a hit? It helps me relax enough to go to sleep.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. If I take a hit, I’ll be just as loud and obnoxious as she is,” she answered, and then put her hand over her mouth again. He grinned at her blunder. Hermione noticed that his smile made her heart stop.

“I… uh… didn’t mean for that to sound like that… I…” she stammered. “What I mean to say is that the several times I’ve gotten high at friends’ gatherings… I… I…” She scratched her head and bit her lip, as she was quite embarrassed to reveal something so vulnerable to a person she had just met.

“I… I create music,” she finished the sentence.

When she finished her sentence, he began to crack up. “Why, Hermione, creating music is a _wonderful_ thing to experience when under the influence!” he commented. “It’s one of the only ways I can be fully happy with my compositions.”

She shook her head and tried to hide her embarrassment. “No, no. You don’t understand. I’m a classical pianist. When I’m… under the influence, I just start to hear music differently and then my music starts to modulate to a different sound, almost like jazz. I’m not the type of person to play without sheet music, and even then, it’s in the classical category,” she explained. “Bloody hell, sometimes I sing.”

He continued to shake his head and laugh. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. From my experience, pianists make the best singers and harmonizers. That’s because you’re used to having all the pitches right at your fingertips,” he commented. After a moment’s pause, he brightened.

“Why don’t you play for me? It’ll ease your nerves for your audition tomorrow, and it’ll shut Tom up. If there’s anything Tom hates the most, he _hates_ classical piano,” Theo suggested with a renewed enthusiasm.

“But… quiet hours? Wouldn’t the other neighbors mind?” Hermione questioned.

Theo shrugged. “You just moved into the arts district of Hogsmeade. If anything, the neighbors will appreciate your music over Tom’s daily deed,” he reminded her. Then, he held out his vape pen towards her for a third time. “And I’m curious what Hermione-under-the-influence sounds like.”

“Are you 100% sure it’ll get this Tom in 220 to stop shagging Dr Lestrange against my wall?” she asked him again, just for reassurance. “Oh geez, I have to un-hear Dr Lestrange in my head.”

He nodded. “Positive. Are you playing Mozart for your audition tomorrow? He detests Mozart sonatas the most,” he told her.

“I’m playing Brahms,” she answered. “I really want to get into Dr Snape’s studio.”

“Close enough. Brahms was pretty structural with compositions as well,” he added as he readjusted his glasses.

Hermione heaved out another sigh for the umpteenth time that night. This was something she’d never done. She’s not one to break the rules, on purpose. The only times she’s ever experienced a “high” was whenever she ate one of the Weasley brothers’ baked goods. They’ve catered most of the parties she had attended in her last years of secondary.

Whatever, she wasn’t going to be young forever. If it was something to get 220 to stop, then she’d do anything.

Hermione hastily grabbed her neighbor’s vape pen, pressed the button, and inhaled deeply. She noticed that there was a fruity flavor to the smoke, which helped her take it in smoothly. The brunette handed the pen back to Theo as she exhaled slowly. The smoke swirled between the two of them.

“All right, come on in to my humble abode,” she said as she pivoted around to head back to her new home. She heard soft footfalls behind her as she opened the door and led her neighbor into her living area.

“Nice place,” he complimented her. “The Riddle and Sons baby grand is a great centerpiece.”

In their new location of Hermione’s apartment, the sounds from 220 were much louder since they were close to the chosen surface of shagging. He laughed when he saw her picture frames on the floor.

“Oh, watch out for glass,” she warned him. Hermione clumsily swept the glass with her house slippers to the wall.

Theo’s attention turned to the content of the pictures. “I should’ve known. You’re dating a Weasley. Fred always knows how to provide the goods,” he said as he shook his vape pen. “Must’ve been quite a party.”

Hermione snorted. She was about to blurt out about the row that she and Ron had at that gathering, but held her tongue. She barely knew Theo, and though it felt natural to spill everything to him, she didn’t want to blab about all the drama in her life either.

Ron had been furious for her stealing the spotlight again. Fred, George, and Ron had started their own garage rock band that night, and she started to jam with them. Apparently, her keyboard solos and scats outshined Ron’s attempt at a drum fill. Fred and George offered Hermione a spot in their band, but Ron rejected the idea outright. Hermione was going to reject them anyways because being in a band would take up her studying time, but she was also angry that Ron didn’t want her to join.

Hermione shook her head free from the negative energy to get her head back in the right frame of mind to perform.

“They just started a band called The Wheezin’ Wizards,” she told him. “It’s garage rock, not my favorite genre of music, but they’re fun.”

“Oh, good for them. I’ll have to jam with Fred the next time I purchase something,” Theo said. “Now, weren’t you going to perform something for me?”

Hermione blushed. She was about to perform for someone she just met, who was a masters student in pedagogy, and was part of a jazz trio. This would be the first time she would ever perform for someone who actually knew about music, and wasn’t going to be judging her for a competition.

Performing for competitions she could handle, since she thrived in a competitive setting. Performing for her friends and family she could handle, since she’d been doing it all her life. Performing for a musician she barely even met _and_ in a casual non-competitive setting was getting her nerves all aflutter. It didn’t help that she was attracted to him too.

She waited for a moment for her nerves to settle. After a deep inhale and exhale, she started tofeel the effects of the drug she had inhaled. Almost instantly, her limbs started to feel more loose as her body started to get rid of all the tension she had been feeling previously.

She could do this, and if she did this, 220 would stop. Then, she could finally get the sleep she needed to impress Dr Snape, and enter his studio.

This was a good plan. Hermione liked plans. Plans ensured that mostly everything would go as smoothly as they could. If something happened to go wrong, Hermione always had a back-up plan. Her drug-addled mind came up with a plan to shove Theo against the wall and have her way with him. It wasn’t a wise back-up plan, so Hermione shoved the thought down and hoped the initial plan would flow without a hitch.

The moment she sat down, she assumed an upright posture with her fingers curved perfectly over the keys. She closed her eyes and took a moment to center her self. Behind her eyelids, the music notes of Brahms’s _Rhapsodie_ floated in an array of dreamy, rainbow colors. The brunette took in a deep breath, and then started playing the piece.

With the effects of the vape pen, each type of cadence had its own color. When she played the through the arpeggiations, she felt her fingers whispering over each piano key with a practiced grace. Hermione felt like she’d never played Brahms so beautifully. She could visibly feel the sound waves as they bounced beautifully off the walls.

This was the first time she’d ever played piano in her new flat. The flat’s acoustics featured her piano perfectly. Once she’d performed that authentic cadence finish, she felt like her fingers had a mind of its own. They modulated from the g minor chord to a diminished to a major seventh to a ninth then a thirteenth… she really couldn’t keep track anymore.

As always, her mouth decided to open itself to reveal a soft, throaty voice of a crooner. This voice was vastly different than the church choir voice her parents preferred.

_“Oh, I wish I could sleep,_

_but the inconsiderate neighbor keeps,_

_fucking and screaming and moaning against the wall._

_I’ll just keep counting sheep,_

_To drown out a shag so cheap,_

_I wonder if this neighbor is compensating, because his dick is small.”_

When she finished singing that last word, she ended the improvised ditty with an ascending arpeggio of a major seventh chord. Once her fingers lifted from the keys, she heard a resounding clap from her audience, the audience she forgot existed for a moment.

She also noticed that she no longer heard 220 Tom and the woman banging against the wall. Mission accomplished.

She turned to face Theo, who was beaming with a wide grin. “It’s a shame you’re not headed for the hospital and not the stage,” he commented as he shook his head. “You’ll definitely impress Dr Snape, and all of the other piano profs too.”

“Thanks, Theo,” she told him gratefully. She paused to appreciate the silence coming from 220. “He _finally_ stopped. I can sleep in peace.”

“We _both_ can,” he reminded her and then added with a wink, “If this is the solution, I wouldn’t mind listening to you perform every night.”

Hermione felt herself blush at such a forward statement. She folded her arms closer to her. “Thanks again, Theo. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you another time as well,” she offered. Then, a yawn escaped from her mouth.

“I should get going so you can get some rest. I too have string auditions to listen to tomorrow,” he informed her as he made his way towards her door. Then, just as he walked stepped outside, he turned around. His warm brown eyes sparkled at her as he wished her, “Sweet dreams, 218.”

Hermione followed him as she waved goodbye. “Good night, 219,” she farewelled as she shut the door behind him.

Once the door was shut, Crookshanks snuck out from underneath her bed to headbutt her shin. With a little mew, the orange Persian led Hermione towards her queen-sized bed. After removing her robe, she snuggled into the duvet next to her pet and drifted into a dreamless slumber.

—

Today was going to be a good day.

Hermione had the best sleep of her life. She started her morning with a small cuddle session with Crooks, a few sun salutations to energize her day, a healthy, yet energizing breakfast of poached egg on a bed of steamed kale and whole wheat toast, and a refreshing shower. She put on a simple, yet stylish outfit that consisted of a camel cashmere sweater that showed off her collarbones, tailored pants, and faux-leather ballet flats. Her curly hair was on its best behavior since she’d discovered a smoothing serum. She tamed her hair with a velvet black headband. The finishing touches to her look were a hint of moisturizing highlighter on her cheekbones, tinted lip balm, and the lucky necklace she always wore to every major event.

She fingered the white-gold otter pendant with pride as she stared at herself in the mirror. She was able to have an amazing morning, despite sleeping late. She could practically see the confidence oozing out of her pores.

She was going to ace the audition. She was going to become the star student in Dr Snape’s studio, just like she had been in all her classes before this moment.

With a quick glance at her watch, Hermione noticed she still had thirty minutes to practice before she had to head to the Thomas J. Riddle auditorium. Hermione performed some quick scales, arpeggios, and one last run-through of _Rhapsodie_ before she grabbed her purse to head out her door. She gave a quick pet and a farewell kiss to Crookshanks before she shut the door behind her.

Just as she was fiddling to find the keys to lock the door behind her, the door leading to the apartment next door whipped open. Out walked probably one of the most good-looking men Hermione had ever laid eyes on.

He was a fit, older gentleman who looked to be in his early thirties. He was well-dressed in a light grey dress shirt, black trousers, a charcoal vest, and a tailored blazer. He had cropped, dark wavy hair, impeccable cheekbones, a sexy stubble, and hypnotizing green eyes hiding behind tortoise-shell, horn-rimmed frames that was enough to stun any woman caught looking at him.

He was the epitome of a tall, dark, and handsome.

“You must be the new tenant in 218.”

Hot damn, he even had a sexy baritone too.

The clanging of her apartment keys dropping on the floor broke her out of her reverie. Hermione shook her head clear of thoughts of attraction to find the handsome man staring at her with a look of disdain.

“Oh, yes, I am. I’m Hermione Granger. I…”

She was interrupted by her neighbor loudly clearing his throat and staring her up and down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by her appearance.

“I read your paperwork, both when you applied to live in the apartment and to the department in which I work. _You’re_ the student who had the audacity to apply as a piano performance major to fluff your med school application to impress those dim-witted fools at St. Mungo’s,” he spoke with distaste dripping in every syllable.

“I…” she attempted to defend himself, but he interrupted her.

“To major in piano performance, one must dedicate all their blood, sweat, and tears. That’s how it runs in _my_ department,” he informed her. “While your playing is decent, you must realize that I have no room for idiots who miscalculate the timing of their right-hand triplets to left-hand duplets in measures 42 and 49.”

Then, it finally occurred to her that 220 Tom was no regular Tom. 220 Tom was the head of the piano studies department, Dr Thomas M. Riddle. He was the same Riddle that descended from a family of famous pianists and piano makers, the grandson of the auditorium’s namesake, Thomas J. Riddle. The same Riddles that owned the company that produced her precious Riddle and Sons baby grand in her living room. He was the same Riddle that had been a child prodigy at such a young age and was featured with major symphonies around the world before he hit the age of eighteen. He was also the same Riddle who tossed aside classical music, much to the disdain of his predecessors, to become one of the most prolific jazz pianists of the century.

Oh bloody fuck… and he heard her playing last night. He probably also heard her ditty about him compensating for his small dick size.

Sure, she wanted to impress Dr Snape, but Dr Riddle was Dr Snape’s _boss_. Dr Riddle was ultimately in charge of all the students in the piano studies department.

Oh bloody fuckety-fuck. She was screwed.

“I take that since you’re standing there with your mouth agape like a fool that you’re cancelling your audition. It’ll give me more space to do something more worthy of my time,” he spat as he began lifting his keys to unlock his apartment.

No. Hermione wasn’t going to let this professor bully her into submission. She was a girl who put her heart and soul into everything she did. It didn’t matter that he was the head of the department. She didn’t want to be in his studio anyways.

She will show him exactly what she was capable of.

“No. I _am_ going to play that audition. I am going to rock the socks off of Drs Snape, Greengrass, _and_ Slughorn so that you’ll have no choice but to accept me into your program. You must’ve seen on my application that while I swept local contests in music, I am also a well-rounded individual in the sciences and have done a lot of volunteer and leadership work to help the community. I’ve even put in a letter of recommendation from the dean himself, Dr Black, when I single-handedly created that music-tutoring program for secondary students to teach primary students with special needs. I think that intimidates you, a person who solely devotes his life to music, that someone can be amazing at different, seemingly-unrelated realms of study. It would be a loss to ignore a recommendation from your boss,” she spat towards him.

She could feel her chest heaving from the all the anger she was feeling. She didn’t realize that while she was defending herself, she had stomped her way closer to him.

“You’re going to regret that you ever threatened me, Ms Granger,” he warned her as he stepped even closer to her that he was breathing in the air she breathing out. He was glaring at her. “You’ll find that I’m _well-endowed_ with other skills to make your life a living hell.”

“You’ll find that I’m well-equipped to handle anything you throw my way,” she challenged him. She was sure he made that ‘well-endowed’ comment as a reference to her ‘small dick’ ditty.

“See you at your audition at 12:30, sharp. If you’re one minute late, you’re booted out of the program,” he reminded her as he whistled his way towards the stairwell.

Hot damn, the man was a jerk, but he had a fit body. No wonder he had a different woman in his apartment every day.

She moved over back towards her door to lock her apartment. Instead of following him, she turned and took the opposite stairwell. She still had thirty minutes to spare before her audition. She was going to be there early and with the confidence she needed to impress the others.

She wasn’t going to let Dr Riddle phase her.

As she was about to shut the door leading into the apartment building behind her, she saw Theo racing down the stairs. He was dressed casually in another pair of jeans and a band tee. This time, he had an open, dress shirt to make him look somewhat more polished. She could tell he was a much more easy-going, and nicer, person than Dr Riddle.

“218! Wait up!” he called.

She paused and offered him a smile. “What’s up, Theo?”

“I… uh… I heard you and Tom earlier while I was having my breakfast. I thought I could walk you to your audition since I was headed that way anyways,” he offered.

“Oh…” she felt herself blush. “I already made a terrible impression on Dr Riddle.”

Theo shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, no, not at all. I’ve known Tom for a long time. He’ll never admit it, but I think you’ve thoroughly impressed him,” he informed her. “Tom is used to students succumbing to his demands. You’ll be a breath of fresh air for him. I’d be surprised if he didn’t take you for himself.”

Hermione was surprised by that comment, and felt her cheeks getting redder. “What?”

It was at that precise moment that Hermione and Theo ran into Dr Riddle himself. They were all heading in the same direction towards the Slytherin School, and lived in the same place, so it was bound to happen.

Her eyes met Dr Riddle’s for one brief moment before she quickly changed her gaze to Theo.

“Hello, Theo,” Dr Riddle curtly greeted and proceeded to power-walk past the two of them.

Hermione cleared her throat and continued walking, “What do you mean?”

“Tom only settles for the best. He’s probably a little miffed that a very skilled pianist like yourself isn’t solely a piano performance major _and_ that you didn’t want to be in his studio. Most of the piano primaries go to his office on their knees and begging to take them in. Tom’s got an ego,” Theo explained to her.

“You’re telling me. It’s not enough that he has a different woman each night stroking his ego,” Hermione retorted.

“Yeah, he’s got a complex relationship with women,” Theo agreed as he looked elsewhere. Then, Theo suddenly sparked up and turned towards her to show off his enthusiastic grin. “Let’s change the topic, yeah? Lift your spirits a bit? So what’s this program about teaching students with special needs? How can I get involved?”

Hermione beamed a smile in return as they continued chatting with each other on the way to the auditorium. She was quite grateful to have met an ally in Theo.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly sorry about how long this has taken. 2020 has been quite the year... As you probably could tell, I am a classically-trained pianist and vocalist. I'm having a lot of fun injecting my musical experience into this story. I hope you enjoy this addition.

Tom braced himself as he reached the vicinity of the area that belonged to the Slytherin School of the arts. It was around this area that he would get accosted by endless amounts of sycophants wanting his attention and praise, eager students that want to get into his studio, and the countless women who threw themselves at him.

When Tom was in a good mood, he welcomed it. He preened at compliments and praise by whoever would give it to him, so that he would know precisely who would do his bidding. When Tom was in a bad mood, he had no patience for it. In fact, if it wasn’t for identifying mindless minions to do his bidding, Tom would never have put up with it in the first place.

Today, Tom was in an extremely bad mood.

“Tom!” a male voice called. Tom didn’t even bother to turn towards the caller. He could recognize that fast-paced hobble having heard it plenty of times during his time as the star student at his academy. This was the fifth time this week that Lucius Malfoy had presented himself at the university in hopes to get his son into Tom’s studio.

Though Tom was an unfair person who hardly had any morals most of the time, he was scrupulously fair when it came to music. Others would attempt to seduce him with either their money or their bodies, but Tom refused. If their audition proved worthy, then they would get the coveted spot of being placed in his studio. Currently, there was only one spot available in his piano studio since his last student, Regulus Black, had dropped out of his program due to extreme duress.

Tom was already familiar with Lucius’s son, Draco Malfoy. The Malfoys and Riddles have been well-acquainted for many generations. The Malfoys were one of the oldest noble families of the country. The Riddles’ legacy was built from profiting off the noble families to educate their youth in hopes that their children would become as intelligent, elegant, and talented.

It has also been a family-held tradition for each Riddle to marry someone of equal or higher social standing who had looks, manners, intellect, power, and musical prowess. Tom Riddle was the result of generations of excellent breeding. The Riddles were known as the premier piano makers and pianists of the world. Thomas J Riddle, his grandfather, was in charge of all the business deals of Riddle and Sons. His father, Dr. Thomas C Riddle, was another famous concert pianist who gave private lessons only to those who could afford him. His mother, Merope Riddle (née Gaunt), was a famous soprano before she passed away at his birth.

To say Tom was musically-gifted was an understatement. Music was in his blood. He could trace his lineage back to Salazar Slytherin himself, the founder of the Slytherin School of the Arts and an organist and accomplished Baroque composer.

Though he was a decade younger than Lucius Malfoy, Tom knew he had a lot of power over the Malfoy patriarch. Tom also knew that he didn’t want the spoiled heir to the Malfoy fortune in his studio. Draco was personally trained by his father, Dr. Thomas C Riddle, a world-renowned pianist and an expert on all things Liszt.

While Tom admired Liszt, he felt that the written-out cadenzas that have been universally accepted in the scholarly world ruined the originality of Liszt’s compositions. The Malfoy heir played precisely the same way when it came to jazz.

Also, it didn’t help that Tom detested every single member of the Malfoy family he’d encountered. When Abraxas was alive, Tom could hardly stand being stuck next to the elderly gentleman in social gatherings. Lucius is a man who acts like he has power, but only has lots of money that he doesn’t know how to handle. His son is no better. Draco fancies himself one of the greatest pianists of his generation, with all of his ‘accolades and awards’ that his father bought for him.

Talent did not run in the Malfoy veins, therefore no Malfoy would ever be in his piano studio.

“Tom! Tom!” Lucius Malfoy called as he quickly hobbled after the piano professor.

Without even turning his head to acknowledge the older man, Tom spoke tersely, “If you are here to try to pay off your son’s entrance into my studio, you should know that I am not interested in your finances.”

“Oh Tom, but… that’s not why I’m here,” Lucius Malfoy told him in-between breaths.

Once Tom unlocked his office, he pivoted around to face the older man. “Then why are you wasting my time, Lucius?”

The older man shook his head and regained his composure. “I’m here because I have something you’d be interested in,” Lucius said as he gathered documents. “I have here all the information of the prospective students auditioning today for the piano program.”

Tom raised an eyebrow as he received the documents.

“Why would you want me to have physical copies of this information? As head of the department of piano studies, I already have all of this information at my fingertips,” Tom asked him as he tossed the papers aside without even a single glance.

Lucius feigned a face of innocence. “As head of the department, I thought it would be important for you to know details of _all_ your incoming students,” Lucius explained himself. “I’ll be out of your way, but please consider Draco. He’s looked up to you for a long time. As family friends, I’m sure you understand.”

Tom stiffly nodded at Lucius, then motioned for Lucius to leave. Lucius attempted to speak again, but Tom cleared his throat loudly. “I do not have time for this. I have auditions to listen to in 15 minutes. Shut the door behind you when you leave,” Tom commanded the older man.

Lucius cowered under Tom’s powerful presence, hobbled his way out of the office and shut the door behind him.

Once Tom was alone, he heaved out a sigh. He’d have to deal with more auditions today (if they were worthy), band practice afterwards, and then finally time to decompress on his own. He planned on having a productive evening with his piano to work on his next musical project.

Tom deserved to have a night to decompress, _especially_ after last night.

He had made several mistakes last night that he was not particularly proud of. Frankly, he didn’t know how he made it back to his apartment with Bella in tow, when he was quite sure that he wanted to bring home her two backup singers from the gig last night. Bella was usually a good lay, if one didn’t mind a screeching banshee. He needed to have more liquor to drown out her howls.

Fuck, he needed to lay off of the vocalists. They’re particularly fond of listening to themselves. Tom was certain that Bella got off on listening to her own voice.

But that Granger girl…

Even through the walls of the apartment, he could tell from her timbre that she wasn’t classically pruned by instructors like Bella. Her voice was filled with raw talent. It helped that she was a primarily a pianist, since it seemed like she didn’t struggle with pitch. Even if her lyrics were not his favorite, he could tell she had a genuine understanding of music.

She wasn’t trying to show off her range, her power, or her skill. She was singing like she breathed music. The way she played was raw and real, untarnished by vocal and piano teachers who wanted her to emulate them. She was all her own.

It was the same voice he desired to complete his latest musical project. While Tom could sing, he preferred a sultry, female voice to accompany his piano playing. An image of the two collaborating over his grand piano in his apartment flashed in his mind. Tom quickly shook it off, for he knew he didn’t want to involve a nuisance like that Granger girl in his life.

As the head of the Department of Piano Studies, it was Tom’s job to oversee who enters into the prestigious piano performance program. He never paid attention to any prospective applicants who are double-majoring in other programs. They had a system to keep all their professors happy and well-paid. All double-majors, music education majors, and sub-par pianists went to Horace Slughorn and Gareth Greengrass, and all classical performance majors go to Severus, his second-in-command. Tom’s piano studio had six slots, in which he chose all the pianists that had potential to be magnificent.

In all of his ten years of teaching at the university level, all of his students have gone on to achieve coveted performance spots with symphonies and bands, teaching positions at other prestigious colleges, and have won popular music awards for their work. There was no room for failures.

But that Granger girl…

Her playing needed some tuning up and finesse, but anyone who heard her could agree that she had raw talent. He could hear the slight confines of her classical piano training, but he could also hear that she naturally understood the different colors of chords and sounds. Mostly everyone who tried out for the program, especially graduates from fine arts academies, had a tendency to sound like their educators.

It was rather unfortunate that she was only using her music degree to help her medical school application stand out. It was another blow that she aspired to be a part of Severus’s studio instead of the glitz and glamour that being a part of his studio offered.

Tom scanned her information again from the pile Lucius gave to him. She was valedictorian and graduated with top marks. It annoyed him to see that she was part of other programs in which she helped others with special needs, and that she was very knowledgeable in the health sciences.

He noticed that this part was circled, which Tom knew was Lucius’s sad ploy to steer Tom away from this girl. Just underneath that section, all of her awards and accolades that she won were listed. Tom was sure that this Granger girl had enough talent to win those awards by herself.

Despite her extra-curricular activities, it seemed she also had a strong interest in music as well, due to her dance background, and ugh, God forbid, she’s a _church_ choir girl. From her reference letters, he could tell she was one of those goody-goody-two-shoes girls who sucked up to all her teachers. He was disgusted by the way her application reeked of her bleeding heart to save others. She probably got her rocks off on squeaky-clean church boys who played guitar.

She represented _everything_ he abhorred, from her perfect curls to her dainty toes.

She didn’t belong in this school. She was the perfect candidate for the Ravenclaw School of Science and Engineering. She was better off behind a microscope than behind the keys.

How _dare_ she think she was worthy of being a piano major in his department. She wasn’t vetted by the Malfoy Academy. Tom could care less that his boss specifically asked for her to join his department of piano studies.

Tom let out a deep breath and finished the remainder of his black coffee.

He shouldn’t be wasting this much time fussing over a student who didn’t matter. So what if she was some over-achieving perfectionist who bit off more than she could chew? He could easily make her life a living a hell without even lifting a finger. That’s what his minions were for.

—

When Tom glanced at the audition list outside the auditorium, he rolled his eyes. Of course, Hermione Granger was the first audition he had to hear. As the director of the piano studies program, Tom didn’t need to attend all of the auditions. He usually stayed for the first few auditions until all the spots in his studio were filled. Tom usually delegated the other placements for Severus to ultimately choose whoever got admitted into the piano program.

Tom didn’t have to waste all of his time listening to crap piano playing.

On his way to the auditorium, he saw the Granger girl sitting outside in the waiting area, among other prospective piano students. She appeared to be chatting with another young woman. He also saw the two Malfoys talking in hushed voices across the corridor.

Screw what Dr Black would say. Tom was confident that even though the Granger girl was a pretty young thing who looked good on paper, her piano-playing wouldn’t be enough to suit the Slytherin School of the Arts. His strong advice would be for her to take a few piano classes as an elective and focus on the grueling sciences of the Ravenclaw School.

Dr Black would surely understand his explanation over some young over-achieving freshman who didn’t know her limits.

The rebellious side of Tom’s consciousness decided to rear its ugly head as he stared the young woman down.

Lucius Malfoy knew about this girl’s talent, which means that she must have some notoriety. Even though he wasn’t the biggest fan of her performance last night, he had to admit that she had a deeper understanding of music than others. She had raw talent that he could hone and perfect. She was untouched by the influence of others in the performance realm that was at Malfoy Academy.

She could easily become his star pupil, his protege. He could give her the world.

It was then that Tom noticed that he had stopped right in front of the Granger girl. Once she heard his approaching footsteps, her posture straightened and she fixed an appearance of confidence on her face. He could tell from the soft hitch in her breath that it was all for show. He could see that she wasslightly uneasy in his presence, but she still had that air of confidence that she had in the morning. His eyes were glaring right at her honey-colored ones. The fire in her eyes sparked something unfamiliar inside Tom, but he immediately compartmentalized the foreign feeling for further analysis at another time.

Her companion, who Tom knew to be Gareth's granddaughter, backed away after noticing the tension between himself and the Granger girl. He also noticed that the hallway leading to the auditorium became suspiciously silent. He couldn’t tell if his brain was drowning out the background noise or if everyone in the hallway silenced themselves to eavesdrop. It wasn’t a new concept that he could grab the attention of everyone in a room without even trying.

The Granger girl cleared her throat and haughtily lifted her chin. This exposed more of her slender neck and her collarbone. Tom briefly imagined how she would react if he bit her there.

“Did you have something to tell me, Dr Riddle?” he heard her ask him.

Tom felt out of sorts. He was never the type to ever be at a loss for words, especially around a young woman who was eager to impress.

Though it was a second too late to be as effective, Tom finally managed to say, “The first audition slot is wasted on you.”

“You wouldn’t have to be there. I do not intend to be a jazz pianist, therefore, I do not have any intention of joining your studio,” the Granger girl reminded him. “I am playing a piece by Brahms for Dr Snape.”

While Severus was satisfied with merely teaching proper technique and following music by the text, Tom inspired and encouraged his students to discover the meaning of the music by experiencing the music themselves rather than reading sheet music verbatim.

Before Tom could wax eloquently about how his teaching techniques could revolutionize her piano playing, a booming baritone interrupted his thoughts.

“Ah, I see you two have met!” the jolly and robust head of the Slytherin School of the Arts announced. Dr Phineas Nigellus Black strolled up so that he placed himself in-between where Tom and the Granger girl were both standing.

Tom forced a smile through clenched teeth for his boss. Tom never liked interacting with his supervisor, especially since Tom believed that Phineas held no actual talent for the arts, but talent for schmoozing and making himself look better. The Blacks were no better than the Malfoys. They believed their money and heritage could get them all the things in the world, even talent.

“I’m sure that Ms Granger will have absolutely no trouble finding herself at home in the Slytherin School,” Phineas said as he placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “I actually wanted to talk to you about working together. As you read from her application, Ms Granger has had many experiences running organizations and winning competitions. She is just what the Slytherin School of the Arts needs.”

When Tom glanced at the prospective student, she had the decency to look bashful. Tom was sure that Ms Granger was used to people waxing poetic on all of achievements.

“While other schools have done some charity work, especially since our rivals from the Gryffindor have decided that simply donating money is not an acceptable way to be, I believe Ms Granger will be the way for the Slytherin School to gain more positive press,” Phineas began to explain.

Then, he turned to the young woman and asked, “What was the name of your program again?”

Ever the teacher’s pet, Ms Granger preened under the Phineas’s attention. “It’s called, ‘SPEW,’ which stands for Special Performers Express Wonders.’ Our motto is that the performing arts are for everyone of all abilities. I started the program in the public school system when I paired up children of lower socio-economic status and/or in the special needs programs with my talented classmates. We’ve organized recitals and showcases for these students, which not only boost their self-esteem and normalize their education experience, but also serves as a fundraiser to spread these to schools and locations around the greater London area. As founder of the organization, I’ve stepped down and left the organization to one of my very capable peers. I could easily implement the same strategies I used to start SPEW at the college level,” Ms Granger explained.

Tom could see the dazzles in his supervisor’s eyes. Ms Granger would be an absolute boon for the Slytherin School of the Arts.

The hierarchy of the University of Hogwarts is as follows: the Gryffindor School of Business and Media had all the future business professionals, journalists, and filmmakers from new money, the Ravenclaw School of Science and Engineering had all the brains of the college with research in advancing technology, medicine and saving the environment, the Hufflepuff School of Humanities had all the future educators, social justice warriors, ambitious politicians, and those seeking an MRS degree, and the Slytherin School of the Arts was for the elite, the ones whose families could afford to send their trust-fund children to pursue their pleasures. To put it simply, Slytherin families invested in Gryffindor-run businesses, hired Ravenclaws to provide technology and advancement, and bought out Hufflepuffs to ensure their families are protected by the law. All the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws invest in the works of Slytherin graduates as a rite of passage to their success. It’s a healthy system that consistently put Slytherin at the top of Hogwarts hierarchy. This meant that the Slytherin college continued to get most of the funding and amenities provided by the institution.

Recently, this hierarchy has been threatened by the new Chancellor of The University of Hogwarts. This position has been taken up by the former Head of House of the Gryffindor College of Business, Dr Albus Dumbledore. With Dumbledore at the helm, all of the colleges were put on ‘equal’ standing. Each college was on a point system in order to receive funding. To gain points, the colleges would have to be involved in humanitarian efforts and find other ways to give back to the community as a whole, which in turn would promote more positive media coverage for the institution. Dumbledore wanted to revamp the image of the university from its past identity as a school for the rich and elite into a school for all if one is able to put the effort.

Currently, Gryffindor was in the lead. Most of their student organizations were excellent at making connections with the media publicizing charitable events on the weekends. In this new point-system, this automatically (and unfairly) made Gryffindor the top tier due to the fact that Gryffindor offered majors in public relations and media.

If Slytherin had a program like the one Ms Granger had created, this would move Slytherin back at the top spot. As far as he knew, the Gryffindor college only held events and contests for aspiring entrepreneurs and journalists who uncovered and exposed stories. They currently did not have a long-standing charitable program like the one Ms Granger was proposing. The program would be a permanent mainstay since there were always going to be people with special needs. It would show that the Slytherin students and alumni were not just hosting charitable fundraising shows to show off their talents and their money.

It would show that Slytherin had heart. It made Tom want to barf.

“Wonderful, wonderful, Ms Granger,” the Slytherin Head of House praised. “I was thinking that it would be a great idea for ‘SPEW’ to start within the piano department, since this is where you’re going to placed. You could even personally work with Dr Riddle to get started.”

Tom felt himself cringe at the beaming smile Granger flashed at him. It didn’t reach her eyes.

“Phineas, we do have auditions to hear,” Tom reminded his boss. Like the proper gentleman he was raised to be, he held the auditorium door open for the young woman. “I believe you are first, Ms Granger.”

The Granger girl whipped around to flash him a smirk. She would’ve been pretty if she wasn’t so smug. It was a look that was scarily similar to his own when he knew he was going to get his way. It didn’t matter if she was a shoe-in admittance to the piano program. He would see to it that she would be in Slughorn’s studio, or maybe even Greengrass’s, which was where he was definitely going to put the Malfoy boy.

As the Granger girl sauntered past him, he couldn’t help but notice how her tailored pants slid over her pert bottom. He did hear some calming yoga instructions coming from her room. He remembered reading that she was a dancer. She must be very flexible. Tom imagined that she would be an incredible fuck.

Tom quickly blinked away the inappropriate thoughts about this prospective student, who was well on her way to becoming the bane of his existence. She was a decade younger than him, and too naive for his tastes.His main focus was to ruin her, not to fuck her.

Tom rerouted his attention elsewhere and saw that all of his colleagues were seated in varying levels of the auditorium. Severus was dressed in all black in the middle of the front row. Horace was slouched over on stage left and talking in hushed tones with Gareth. Both of the older men were in their early sixties, had large bellies, and spoke jovially of their grandchildren. He couldn’t wait until they retired and he could replace the men with more capable teachers.

From the corner of his eye, Tom noticed that Phineas situated himself on the higher levels of the auditorium. Phineas and Tom had a strained relationship, especially since the older man felt threatened by Tom’s quick rise up the faculty ladder. Tom was one of the youngest professors to receive tenure from the university after receiving his doctorate three years ago.

At twenty-nine, Tom had absolutely no interest in becoming the Head of House of the Slytherin College of the Arts, like his grandfather and father before him. Becoming the Head of House would mean that he had to babysit all the talent-less, trust-fund students and staff who felt entitled to receive high marks because of their heritage.

Tom had bigger and loftier goals to be in control of the music business of the world. His position at the university was merely his scouting grounds for talent. Tom wanted to revolutionize the music industry to where those with actual talent rather than the bubblegum pop singers who were just pretty faces, rock-star rappers whose sound rarely varied from their peers, superstar DJs who just raise their hands in the air rather than live-mixing, and garage bands who only knew four chords. He didn’t want the college graduates who majored in performance, the classical ones lacked imagination and read straight from the music, or the jazz cats who copied their predecessors.

Tom was going to make the world appreciate _real_ music by _real_ musicians.

Phineas Black was not a real musician. His father and his grandfather were not real musicians. Actually, there were very few alums and students of the Slytherin School that were real musicians. The few that were able to graduate the rigorous program at Slytherin School of the Arts, he shipped off to various music epicenters of the world to scout for talented musicians. Others, he had met on musical tours, showcases, and festivals around the world.

Though the Granger girl claimed herself to be a by-the-book classical musician, the sneak peek that he heard showed that she had the potential to be a real musician.

His thoughts of music world domination were interrupted by the crisp and clean voice of the prospective student on stage.

“My name is Hermione Granger. I am prospective student of the Slytherin School of the Arts, and a student at the Ravenclaw School of Science and Engineering. My majors are Neuroscience in the Pre-Medicine track and Piano Performance, with a focus on classical music,” she introduced herself. “I will be playing Brahm’s, Rhapsodie in G minor, Op. 79 No. 2.”

As per piano performance tradition, she bowed her head towards the professors, and then situated herself on the piano bench. She took a focused breath, and then placed her delicate fingers with the perfect curve over the keys, with her right foot appropriately placed on the damper pedal. Her form was one that exuded confidence and poise.

Once she played the opening d minor chord, she closed her eyes and let the music slip from her fingers. Her musical phrasing created a colorful scene, shades blending as she moved seamlessly from chord to chord. She played the piece by giving each section its own unique personality: the beginning was like a smooth sailing that foreshadowed the storm of staccato, into the dreamlike transition to the foreboding phrases of the middle. Her gradual buildup in the development section, one of the most-error prone areas in the piece, was where she shined.

She even played the rhythms in measures 42 and 49 flawlessly. She paid attention to his constructive criticism in _one_ try.

Salazar’s saggy balls, she would be the _perfect_ student for his studio.

For a classical musician, she played like she understood the nuance behind each note, each chord, each phrase. With a little guidance in the right direction, she could blossom into a real musician.

As she finished the piece with the final fortissimo g minor chord, both Gareth and Horace got up from their seats and gave her a standing ovation. Severus, never one to show emotion, had the slightest smile on his face as he politely clapped.

“Bravissima!” Slughorn complimented as he maneuvered his overweight body back into the chairs of the auditorium. “As a double major, you’d be perfect in my…”

Tom cleared his throat loudly as he abruptly stood up from his auditorium chair. He was done listening to auditions. Granger was going to be in his studio whether she liked it or not.He was _not_ going to waste the potential of a real musician to the field of medicine.

He spoke, “Ms Granger, you are to meet me in my office on Monday at 11 as we discuss your schedule and courses for the upcoming semester.”

Tom briskly gathered his belongings and made his way towards the exit of the auditorium. He made sure to go the route that would bypass the Malfoy men completely.

“Wait… what?” he heard her mezzo-soprano voice question.

Tom didn’t make a move to answer, because he knew Severus would take care of it. He just continued on his trek to the exit. He had more important tasks to complete than worrying about Granger’s wants and needs.

“That is Dr Riddle’s way of saying that you are to be in _his_ piano studio,” he heard Severus’s gruff voice answer before the auditorium doors slammed behind him.


End file.
